Lament of the Lost
by kronosdragon
Summary: Cracked concrete walls, empty streets, and a seemingly ceaseless drizzling of rain...I wasn't sure what the new surroundings meant, and I knew that I wasn't alone. One-shot, not lore-friendly. Read the Author's Note for an explanation.


**Author's Note: **_This story is not lore-friendly. This is a one-shot story based entirely off of a dream I had a while back which portrayed Slenderman as having split personalities. I thought it was an interesting enough concept to recollect and recreate from what I remembered. The dream was very vivid, and will be told in first person, as if written in a journal. For the sake of identity preservation, I've replaced the names of myself and my friend, who was in the story with me. Please read and enjoy!_

* * *

I was enjoying a day of shopping with a friend when it all began. From the corner of my eye, I could see various people in business wear heading out on their breaks. It was lunch hour, and my friend and I had stopped in at the open-air market downtown. We had been on our way to the bistro across the street, but since it was such a nice day, we thought that a brief stop to browse was in order.

We paused at a stall full of jewelry and tumbled stones, each item glittering prettily in the noonday sun. The bustle of the city seemed to fade as I picked up a trinket from one of the boxes. It was a small piece of light-colored jade, with a snake beautifully carved into its surface. I looked up briefly to the stall's owner, ready to inquire about its price, but she wasn't there. The people who were walking around me started to get blurry, all of them rapidly disappearing one-by-one like wisps of smoke; all except for my friend and a couple of people in the distance. The entire city started to feel hollow, the beginnings of rain falling down from an overcast sky. We found ourselves surrounded by empty buildings, and I thought that I heard screaming in the distance. My friend and I started to run for cover, deciding that standing out in the open was a bad idea. The people in the distance followed suit, fleeing in different directions and scattering throughout the now partially-decayed city. Hearts pounding, my friend and I ran side-by-side until she overtook me and started to pull ahead.

I glanced behind us for reasons unknown to me (because we all know the rule about running and not looking back), and at the very edge of my field of vision, there stood what I thought to be another person, their figure distorted by the rain and mist. Perhaps it was another one of the people who were here with us. I turned back around to ask my friend to slow down, only to find that we had been separated from each other. I searched frantically, but saw no one. I was standing alone in the middle of an intersection, the streets completely devoid of cars, people or the noise you would associate with a busy city. I turned to the left to try and figure out where my friend had gone, and spotted a tall, dark figure standing just far enough down the road to where I couldn't tell if it was real or a hallucination. The figure was, again, distorted by the rain and distance, which made me further question whether or not it was actually there. It looked like a man, with narrow shoulders and a tall stature. Maybe he was one of the businessmen from the lunch-hour rush.

"Hey! Can you help me? I've lost my friend!" I called out, waving my arms to get the man's attention.

My vision was filled with static interference, as if my head had turned into a radio set to a bad station. It brought to light vague memories of some of the creepy stories I'd read while browsing the internet. This further confused me as the gears in my aching head started to churn. It was impossible; that thing didn't exist. It wasn't real…was it? After a moment of stunned silence, I blinked and realized that I had been standing still as a statue, staring down the road at the motionless figure. I backed away slowly, and then started to run in the opposite direction, crying out for my lost friend. I needed to find her before it was too late.

I bumped into someone as I ran, landing on my rear and knocking them down in the process. I gave low grunt of displeasure as I briefly forgot about my fears and rubbed my bruised backside. I pushed myself up off the cracked concrete, brushing off the crumbles of stone now embedded into my hands and shorts. I found that it was Casey – the very person I had been looking for – who I had knocked over, and helped her to her feet. I told her about the eerie figure, wondering if she had seen it and had come to the same conclusion that I had. She admitted to it with a silent nod, so after a quick glance around, we started running back toward the market to find that everything there was just as it should have been in the real world. Casey started asking questions as I looked around for the means as to how we got here, and how we could go back. What was that thing? If it was who we thought it was, why would he be here? How could he possibly exist outside of the internet, and how did we end up here to begin with? I gave the same answer to all of her questions.

"I don't know."

We checked around for danger before stopping to take a rest. We were very tired and wired up from the adrenaline. Casey found the market stall that we had been at when things started to change, and looked over some of the other stones that were displayed there. For a brief moment, we saw the faded and blurry ghost of the shopkeeper from the real world, talking and looking at other customers that weren't there. The image appeared with others, simply walking around and paying us no mind. We tried calling out to them, but they didn't hear.

"You can yell all you want, but the only people who'll hear you are the ones on this plane of existence."

We both turned to see another captive, a young man with a skateboard and a backwards hat. He had a faded look about him, the life in his skin having left a long time ago, making him look dull and washed-out.

"You can run for a while, but he'll find you eventually. He always watches."

The guy put his skateboard on the ground and pushed off, heading toward an abandoned building. We heard another scream in the distance; another victim, taken. I began to tell myself that this had to be a mistake, in a desperate attempt to rationalize away the reality of the situation. We must have gotten caught up in this by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. We shouldn't be here, wherever "here" was. We looked for shelter from the elements while we tried to figure things out, and found it in an empty office building with plenty of places to hide. We managed to find some edible food from the market and took it with us, so we could hole up in the dark buildings when we could. I succeeded in finding a working flashlight, and started to sweep the area for any threats. My heart thumped so hard that I felt it might explode from my chest as I crept around and shone the dull light of the flashlight over the various cubicles and upturned furniture. I ascended the fire escape to the next floor, exploring our surroundings as carefully and quietly as I could. The next floor looked like it was composed primarily of meeting rooms, filled with empty chairs and large tables with papers scattered all over the place. I walked into one, checking the dark corners of the room and finding nothing more than a few smashed pots and dead plants. My vision blurred temporarily, and I found myself feeling slightly nauseous. Wanting to go back to Casey, I turned and walked out of the room and into the hall, stopping to lean against the wall for a brief rest. My legs were shaking, and the floor felt like it was rocking beneath my feet.

I felt the chill of the air sting my cheeks for the first time. When did it get so cold? I lifted the flashlight and scanned the area, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. I sighed, trying in vain to calm my uneasy stomach before moving back toward the stairs. As soon as I could, I broke into a jog down the hall in the direction of the unlit exit sign. My vision blurred, and in a split second I found myself standing in front of a pair of long, spindly legs clad in black slacks. There was a burst of static as I stared up at him, frozen to the spot. He didn't do anything but stare back, standing as still as I did. As soon as he started to lean down, I broke free from my paralysis and turned to run, but that seemed to make him act almost immediately. I tried to cry out to my friend, but an ethereal black tendril wrapped itself around my mouth and silenced me. I tried to bite it, but it was like trying to bite cold air. I was dragged back to my captor, feeling the tendrils tightening on my limbs and starting to pull them in ways that they shouldn't move. I started to sob, which resulted in the tentacles spasming and suddenly releasing me. I dropped to the floor, covering my face and curling into a ball of shock and fear. The creature spoke in a strange, echoing voice that didn't sound real, like a voice in the back of your head.

"Oh come on now, that makes me feel bad about what I'm doing, here..."

I looked up at him, scared to know that he could talk, too.

"Then...don't…do it?" I suggested, voice shaking. My stomach was both churning and tied up in knots. I didn't think I could puke if I tried.

"I have to," he said matter-of-factly. "I tried to warn you, but you kept running. I have to cleanse the people who enter this realm and break the rules laid out for them."

"But, _you_ brought us here," I pointed out, confusion starting to overtake my fear as I uncurled myself and looked up at him.

"I know. Again, I have to."

"Why?"

"I just do."

I could clearly define the impatience in his voice. I cocked my head, only more confused by everything that was happening.

"What...What are the rules of this...place?" I stammered, hoping that keeping him talking would give me a chance to think of a way out of here.

"They change. Today, it was no running. Naturally, everyone starts running once they see me. It's a curse, really. Now, I'm sorry, but I have a quota to fill. Just know that I really don't want to do this."

The tentacles came back and grabbed me, slamming me against the wall. Everything hurt, and every beat of my heart made my body feel like it was burning.

"Th-Then don't!"

My words didn't have any effect on him, and the tentacles wrapped around my midsection were squeezing painfully hard, as if he were going to squeeze me until I burst from both ends like a balloon. I lost feeling to my arms as the tendrils binding them began to cut off circulation, and I could feel my bones creaking painfully beneath the pressure.

"Please..."

I started crying again, unable to control it. Slenderman teleported right up to me, and though his face was featureless, I could feel the anger radiating from him like sound waves.

"STOP THAT AT ONCE!" his voice boomed, bouncing around in my head and making me see red spots. The tendrils only continued to tighten, and I was having trouble breathing.

"I can't help it," I hiccupped, tears clouding my vision and turning his white face into a blurry blob, "I'm s-scared..."

The fiend stepped back, stood still as if contemplating something, turned away and dropped me to the floor.

"Don't move, if you want to survive the night."

He teleported away, and left me in the office sitting in shock as my body felt frozen once more. I stayed in that position, not even moving to see if my friend was still alive. I was too terrified to speak. So I sat, listening to my frantic heartbeats as they rung in my ears. My chest felt like it was being constricted, and my heart was pounding on my rib cage to get out before being squeezed to death. Every part of me felt fuzzy and disconnected from itself, making the creeping darkness feel all the more suffocating.

Just as I started to calm down, I heard another agonized scream in the distance. It sounded like a young man, and I silently hoped that it wasn't the one we had run into earlier. I tried to remain calm and not think about the possibility, but it was getting harder and harder with every passing moment. I finally gained feeling back to my shaking limbs, and I tried to stand up. I ended up wobbling and falling down a couple of times before I could stop shaking long enough to balance on what felt like millions of pins and needles, rather than legs. I looked around, not sure if whether or not I could walk back to the room my friend was holing up in without attracting the suited devil's attention. I managed to make my way back to her, and she started asking me why I took so long and why she heard crashing from upstairs. I told her about my run-in with the tall monstrosity, and how this place had certain rules enacted each day, or else he would hunt you down. I could only tell her that today's rule was not to run and that for some reason, the thing was being forced to bring people here and kill them if they broke the rules, which would end up being everyone who saw him. Neither one of us could think of how such a creature as he was being forced to do this, or how he came to be in the first place. All we knew was that we had to survive long enough to figure out how to escape. Maybe staying alive for a certain amount of time would open a portal or rift that we could go back through.

Casey and I managed to sleep huddled under a desk. We took turns keeping watch. I got to sleep first, and then she slept until morning while I kept a lookout, ready to protect her. Not that I had any way of defending myself from those ghastly tentacles, but if I saw him, I might be able to talk to him again and find out more about what was controlling him, or a means of escaping.

Based on the broken clock on the wall, it was four fifty-eight in the morning. I had a watch, but upon coming here, it seemed to stop working. I didn't know how to judge the time, considering it was still dark and rainy. I knew it had to be early still, because it was extra dark as opposed to daytime rain. I pulled myself up onto the metal desk, legs hanging down over the opening underneath, where my friend was asleep. I breathed a sigh, and watched my breath hang in the air as a cloud of vapor. The temperature here always seemed to be chilly, but it shouldn't have been cold enough to make my breath visible. I listened intently, remembering the last time I felt the air become so cold. I thought I could hear the soft tapping of leather shoes on carpet, but it sounded distant. I watched the doorway as the footsteps stopped, clinging to the edge of the desk nervously. A long, gangly leg extended into view, slowly pulling an equally-gangly body behind it. Our stalker turned slowly on his heels to face me as I sat perched atop the desk. I had only ever seen him teleport, so watching him work those long legs was a bit weird, and made me feel slightly uncomfortable. He stood in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back and tentacles drifting around him, each one trained on me.

"You moved."

Never had any phrase instilled such terror in me. The tentacles shot out toward me, and I leaned back with jaw clenched and knuckles white from the force of my grip on the desk.

"B-But I didn't run!" I stuttered in retaliation, eyes plastered open as I watched those tentacles bolt like black, branched lightning in my direction.

They stopped short of reaching me, pausing as if thinking about the situation. One was poised barely an inch from my throat, which had gone completely dry from my panicked breaths. My assailant crossed his arms in annoyance, and the tendrils started branching out further as if reacting to his agitation.

"You are complicating things for me."

"Not to be rude," I gasped, "but I value my life over your...whatever it is you do here."

The tentacles retreated and disappeared behind his back, sinking beneath the suit into nothingness.

"Good...I enjoy a challenge."

His voice took a dark turn, echoing with an ethereal, ghostly static. Just moments before, he almost sounded like a real person. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was the monster that the stories told about.

"Can...Can we talk? For a little bit?" I asked, adjusting myself to sit upright.

The monster stood there for a moment, silent and motionless, as if gauging the question. I swallowed at the painful lump in my throat, wondering just how dangerous a game I was playing by asking him anything.

"I have a job to do," he answered simply.

"I...I just want to talk to you. I um...I don't get to t-talk to...uh...things that aren't supposed to exist."

His demeanor seemed to shift a bit, going from stiff and uncaring to what I could only explain as a more relaxed state. His shoulders remained squared and his posture perfectly straight, but his arms fell back to their resting place behind his back.

"What about?"

"Uh...w-well, I just...Um..."

I took a moment to gather my thoughts. Then, I dropped down from the desk and walked toward him; something that every instinct in my head was telling me not to do. I held out my hand, and he regarded it with what I guessed was either confusion, or mild interest. Maybe even amusement.

"M-My name is Katrina. Nice to...m-meet you?"

He looked at my hand for a moment, before bringing one of his own large, gloved hands from behind his back and taking mine. He leaned down in a sort of half-bow, coming slightly closer to my level. I thought I could see stretch marks where his non-existent mouth was, and his grasp was cold with fingers long and pointed, scratching slightly against my wrist.

"Slenderman."

I honestly had no idea what to do after that. I didn't think I would get to this point alive. He still had a hold of my hand, as if waiting for something. I couldn't help but stare in disbelief at his blank face. I was actually touching and talking to something that was only an internet fairytale. I withdrew my hand cautiously, unsure of whether or not he would actually let go. When I did, he returned his hand behind his back, standing back up to his full height and looking down at me with that featureless face.

"I...I'm so confused, Mr. Slenderman. Why are you doing this? You said before…that you didn't really want to, yet you make it sound like something is forcing you to."

He was silent for a moment, staring at me blankly.

"You know, we share something in common. We both have the will to exist."

I cocked my head, clasping my hands in front of me.

"I...What do you mean?"

"My creator keeps me alive, so long as I 'keep the nightmare fuel coming,' as he says. He created me from something that started on something he calls, 'the internet.' I first gained life when people started to believe in me and the stories He would tell."

The Slenderman's body seemed to distort slightly, like a graphical glitch in a video feed.

"I cannot say more...at this time," he said, the voice in my head sounding strained.

"Oh, um...okay," I said, glad to have gotten something out of him at all. "So uh...What do you...is it true, what you do to people you've killed? T...Tearing their throats out and, um, nailing them to trees?"

The Slenderman chuckled darkly.

"There were a few cases...though nowadays, I tend to stick to the city dwellers. There are more of them, and I can end them in more creative ways."

There it was again, the monster showing through. Did this "Creator" make that side of him to keep his creation doing what he wanted him to do?

"I...I see," I said, fear creeping into my bones and chilling me to the core. "You...uh...what do you do with the people you...don't kill?"

"There never have been. They all end up as mine eventually."

I gulped.

"Well, what if someone follows the rules every day?" I asked, maybe a little _too_ hopefully. "How long would they-"

"Indefinitely. There is no escaping unless the Creator deems it so. The longer a chase goes on, the more entertained he is, and the more lenient he gets with me."

I scratched at my cheek nervously.

"W...What if I made it? What if I kept following the rules, and you couldn't kill me?"

"There will come a point when the rules will no longer apply, and all I have to do is find you. Once my creator is bored of the chase, he will order me to do so."

"I..."

I wasn't sure how to react. Either way, I would end up dead. I had to find some way of making him think I was worthy of living, but I had no idea how.

"Okay," I said, lowering my gaze. "But, until then, I _will_ survive."

"You had better."

The Slenderman disappeared, and left me alone in the middle of the room. I stood there, unsure of what he meant by that. Did he want me to? Or was that the monster telling me to provide him with a good chase? I was uncertain about so many things in that moment. I just sat back down on the desk and hugged my knees to my chest. A cold chill ran up my spine, and what felt like a cool breeze drifted past my ear, whispering, "Everything will be alright" in an almost sing-song voice. I looked around, but saw no-one. With a sigh, I scooted myself back against the window over the desk and waited silently in the darkness.

When my friend finally awoke, it was lighter outside, but still in a state of constant rain. I gave her an apple from the produce stand, my own appetite having vanished with the Slenderman. My mind was buzzing, and she must have noticed.

"You look like something's on your mind. What's up?" she asked between bites.

"I saw him last night."

She stopped mid-bite, the apple clinging to her teeth as she looked at me.

"He tried to kill me, but I had followed the rules laid out for the day. I didn't run when I came back to you."

She freed her mouth from the clutches of the apple.

"So, what about today? What's today's rule?"

"I don't know. I think we have to go outside to find that one out."

"But it's all rainy..."

"All the better for him to stalk us. All of the mist will provide cover for him, and we can find a better location to hide out in. Maybe we can find a building that still has power, or at least a working clock. Maybe even a calendar to help us keep track of the days."

"Sounds like a plan."

And it was the plan, for a while. I didn't tell her about our hopeless fate, but I figured it better to keep her spirits high. Maybe everything wasn't as hopeless as the Slenderman and the Creator would have us believe. If we played our cards right, we might figure something out eventually.

When we went out into the street, we tried to get our bearings. We didn't know if we were just trapped in a portion of the city, the full city, or if this entire plane was nothing but winding streets and abandoned buildings. Everything was shaded over by the heavy clouds, casting everything in a dull grey hue. It made everything here seem miserable, with the water trickling down the gutters and into the sewers, and only the roar of the rain and thunder to break the suffocating silence. We found ourselves feeling very down about the situation, especially with our pursuer waiting in the shadows for us to make a wrong move. I constantly kept an eye out for others who might have needed help hiding from our darkest shadow. I thought I would spot his figure way off in the distance from time to time, distorted by the mist. But, when we would get close enough, it would disappear, or end up being a street sign or a lamp post. The mist seemed to be getting denser as the day went on, the temperature dropping a little every couple of hours. In that time, we roamed the streets in search of a new hideout, soaked to the bone and constantly losing sight of one another. We ended up holding hands to stay together as the mist became so dense that it blotted out a lot of our surroundings. We finally took refuge in an apartment complex. Walking into one of the rooms, the stench of death overpowered us and we had to turn away from the gory remains of a former denizen who hadn't managed to escape the Slenderman. My friend's eyes grew wide in horror as she backed away and struggled not to vomit. I closed the door and said a small prayer for the poor soul before going to help my friend. She retched over the stair railing, but couldn't manage to actually vacate her stomach, thankfully. I rubbed her back and made sure she was okay before checking a different room. Many of them were locked, but some had doors that were ajar or broken. It was in apartment 214 that we found refuge, and a calendar.

I claimed the moth-eaten couch as my post while my friend rested in the back room. I reclined and reflected on everything that had happened that day. It all felt unreal, like none of it was happening. It was just a bad dream, and I would wake up in a cold sweat in my bed before laughing it off and going back to sleep. Yet, somehow, the rain felt too wet, and those black tentacles too real. His voice was too monstrous, invading my head like my own thoughts…and his gloved hand, too firm and leathery. I had trouble convincing myself that the sensations were just the product of my imagination. I needed something – anything – to be unreal enough that I could tell myself it was just a dream. And, admittedly, while the whole situation felt like it shouldn't have been happening, it was. I closed my eyes, tears welling up and stinging the backs of my eyelids as I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. My heart was starting to pound in my chest again from the anxiety and stress. I didn't understand why fate was making such a cruel mockery of my life. I had always tried to be a good person. I tried to be there for my friends and family when needed, and while I had fallen on hard times, I tried so hard to keep myself from becoming bitter. Was it all in vain? Was this a bad case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was it my destiny to be devoured in silence, without a body to be found and my family never knowing where I had gone? I didn't want to end up like the person in the other room, who was so disfigured and torn apart that it was impossible to tell if it was even human, much less male or female. Had they lived a good life, just to be taken away to this place? What was that person's story? No one would know, and the fear of the unknown started to sink its teeth into my psyche. I wasn't ready to die, to fade into nothingness without knowing what would happen next. I could only imagine what it would feel like, knowing that all of your memories, experiences, and feelings would soon become nothing but rotting meat and bones. Was that what was to become of me? Would it be painful? Would it be a rush, or a fading of existence?

There came a knock at the door, jarring my shaky mind from its musings and granting me a brief reprieve from the torture I was putting myself through. My friend must have heard it too, and opened the door to their room.

"Did you knock?" she asked.

"No…but I think someone-"

There was another knock, this one more frantic. I jumped up and unlocked the deadbolt as the knocking turned into panicked beating. I threw the door open, and in fell a frightened girl about our age. Her mascara was running, and she had broken both of her stiletto heels. Her clothes were dirty and wet from the rain, and her hair was a mess.

"Oh thank God someone's here! I thought I saw a couple of people walk into the building, so I followed. I…You have no idea how glad I am to see someone alive!"

She sat on her knees for a moment while I closed the door, my friend coming out to see the new addition to our abode.

"What's your name?" she asked the newcomer.

"Sandra. Sandra Teller. Who are you guys?"

"I'm Casey Lemonde," my friend responded.

"I'm Katrina Daywell," I said, locking the deadbolt back.

"How did you survive yesterday?" Casey asked.

"I hid…I-I watched that monster kill my boyfriend…"

She started to cry rather loudly.

"It came after me when I ran, but I think it got distracted by someone else, so I lost it. I hid in the basement of a bar, and didn't move until today."

She wiped her eyes.

"H-How did you two survive?"

Casey and I looked at each other.

"We learned a trick to surviving for as long as we can."

"Really?! What is it?"

"Well, yesterday, it was not to run," I said.

"W…What?"

"Yeah, but we don't know the rule for today," Casey added.

"What do you-"

"Listen Sandra."

I knelt down to face her and took her shoulders.

"Listen very carefully. Every day, there is a rule. That rule changes daily, and we have to figure out what it is. If we break the rule, Slenderman will hunt us down and kill us. We have to be careful to get away from him if we break the rule and he's nearby. I think he only kills you if he catches you breaking it."

"Slenderman?"

"Yeah…Do you know him?"

"No…should I?"

Casey and I looked at each other.

"Okay, what he is isn't important. What _is _important is the fact that, if you're lucky, he'll give you a hint as to what the rule of the day is. We haven't come across him today, thankfully…We had quite enough of that yesterday," Casey said. "Well, Katrina did, anyway."

Sandra looked at me.

"Y-You met that monster…and survived?" she asked, trying to wipe away the mascara dripping down her cheeks.

"I did. He's…complex. I don't understand him very well. I mean, he can talk, but I think he chooses not to, most of the time. He's…I don't even know. He told me that he doesn't want to do these things, but he does anyway. Something is controlling him somehow."

Sandra got to her feet and took off her broken heels. Her feet were blistered and raw where the shoes had been rubbing against her skin.

"Okay, I need to think for a minute…C-Can I sit down, somewhere? I just…need to rest for a minute. Sorry about my feet, I know they're really gross right now."

"Don't worry about it," I said, looking down at myself. "I think we were better prepared than you were. Both of us were just going to the market, so we dressed for walking. You look like you were heading out for a date or something."

"We were going to the movies," she sighed, sitting on the couch and leaning her head back. Her blonde hair hung down in messy, tangled curls over the back of the couch. "Then, we were going to have lunch. Now, he's just a stain on a building somewhere, and I'm alone…"

"Well, you could hang out with us. Strength in numbers, you know?"

Sandra nodded, eyes closed.

"Yeah…you're right."

She fell asleep soon after, and Casey retreated to the bedroom again. I sat down in a faded recliner across from the door, looking out the dingy window at the falling rain and dark clouds. I looked at Sandra, and then started tightening my shoestrings, preparing to do something stupid.

I walked out into the hall, shutting the door behind me. It locked itself when it shut, leaving me out in the open. I had to find the Slenderman, for the safety of the others. I walked out in my jean shorts and loose-fitting black shirt, heading into the empty street. The mist enveloped me immediately, making visibility extremely low. I could only see at an arm's length unless I looked up, where I could see the tops of tall buildings looming over me, casting me in their shadows. I steeled myself and started walking, waiting for some sign of the Slenderman. I walked for what felt like hours, and sat down on the wet sidewalk to rest my aching feet. It was getting darker, and I made a mental note to mark off another day on the calendar. When my butt was sufficiently soaked, I started walking again.

"All alone?"

I froze, feeling chilled to the bone. I looked over my shoulder at the mist-veiled figure behind me. The voice was unmistakable.

"Yeah…looking for you."

"Looking for me?"

The figure disappeared from behind me, and reappeared in front of me. I forced myself not to scream, the figure standing over me feeling considerably more intimidating when shrouded in mist with tentacles bared. I cleared my throat and looked up at him.

"Y-Yeah."

He leaned in close to me, his faceless head coming within inches of my own. I had to fight not to lean away or step back, even though I'm sure he could hear how loudly my heart was thumping. I knew I could, the constant _thump-thump_ing filling my ears and making my head hurt. I had a feeling that he was testing me, trying to get me to scream or falter in some way.

"What do you wish of the Slenderman?" he asked, his voice surprisingly low and smooth, compared to just a moment ago.

"What's today's rule?" I asked, being as straight-forward as I could.

"Hmm…I cannot tell you just like that. Oh no, that would be…cheating."

He stood stock-still, hands clasped behind his back. My vision blurred with static for a moment, making me wince. It was painful, when that happened, as if electricity were being shot behind my eyes and through my head. It happened again, and when my vision cleared, he was gone.

"Don't let your guard down, young miss…"

I turned around, looking for the source of the voice.

"Show yourself!" I yelled, feeling frustrated at being denied. "You said you would give me a hint!"

No answer. I just felt another burst of static, and grumbled. I turned in the approximate direction I had come from, wanting to get back to the others.

I came to the front of the building, but something felt…off. I walked in, and an impermeable darkness seemed to take hold of the shadows. I walked upstairs, and found a dark puddle leaking out from under the door to our apartment, and it was still locked. I started screaming and pounding on the door, trying to get it open. I heard a click, and then it swung open. I covered my mouth, and looked away. Sandra was simply no-more, just a spray of fluids over the walls, and Casey…poor Casey. She was still whole, but her blood had been drained from her body, and used as ink to write upon the walls. The writing was still fresh, and in dripping letters of dark brownish-red, the words "Here's your hint" were splattered on the living room walls.

I stumbled out of the room and emptied the contents of my stomach over the stairwell railing, even though it was nothing more than bile at this point. Panting, I tried to regain my composure. I looked back at the room, and felt another wave of nausea come over me. I shut the door, then attempted to scrape the blood off my shoes. I felt truly alone, and in the back of my mind, I heard the echo of Slenderman's question from before. "All alone?" he had asked. If only I had known…I never would have left the room. I shouldn't have, but I wanted to know what the Rule was today. I wanted to protect them, not send them to their deaths.

"No sleep today…They were both sleeping, and he warned me not to let my guard down…"

I felt so angry with myself, but the energy to actually be angry felt sapped out of me. I sat alone, at the top of the stairs that were now messy with bile. I found myself wondering if I should just end it all now.

"Don't you dare."

I ground my teeth together and glared up at the tall, thin figure standing over my left.

"Get away from me, monster."

"I come and go as I please or deem fit. I'd like to see you try and make me leave."

At that point, something in me snapped, and I launched myself at the faceless man. My own common sense had flown out the window, and I found myself tumbling down the stairs. I banged my head against the floor, dizziness and a trickle of blood obscuring my vision. I blinked away hot tears and picked myself up off the floor, turning to my left to see Slenderman standing with his hands behind his back as always. I lunged at him again, but I was only casting myself into a pit of frustration as I hobbled back and forth, chasing something that simply teleported away when I made even the slightest movement toward it. Eventually, I gave up and sat back down at the bottom of the stairs, contemplating the possibility of finding poison in one of the buildings.

"Don't do it."

I sighed and buried my face in my arms, pulling my knees up in front of me.

"What do you care? You're just going to kill me anyway. Might as well save you the effort."

"There's hardly any effort in it. You'll have to give me a better reason than that."

I looked up incredulously at the figure, which stood in front of me and blocked out what little light was coming in through the broken doorway.

"You and your precious creator just want a chase. I don't want to indulge you."

"I'm not the one who wants a chase. Just him."

"You admitted to it this morning. 'I like a challenge' you said."

"That…wasn't me."

"You know, for someone without a mouth, you talk an awful lot."

"You're the only one who can hear me. I cannot 'speak' for obvious reasons."

"That's not the point! You're a monster! If I'm going to be forced to choose between being torn apart by a creature of nightmares and taking my own life, I'd rather slit my own damn throat!"

Tears of anger and stress were pouring from my eyes at this point. They just flowed as freely as the rain did outside, out of my control. Too much was happening too fast. My friends were dead, and I would die no matter how I fought for freedom.

"Better to die fighting a monster, than alone in the dark."

"Death isn't exactly an option I enjoy either way," I snapped.

"You told me you would survive until the day the rules didn't matter."

"Yeah, well, it would seem that doesn't matter to you. Nothing matters to you."

"Well, yes, for the most part. I can't afford to care. I care about the fact that I'm being forced to do this, but at this point, I am used to it. It's just a game to the creator, and we are the pawns."

"But-"

"And pawns can't take their own lives."

I scowled at him, sizing him up. I felt as if I were almost daring him to take my life then and there, and a part of me wished that he would.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't."

"Because your friends broke the rule. Might as well carry on for their sake."

I had to admit, that was a decent reason to live…for as long as I could. I also had to admit that he sounded rather sincere, although that could have been my delusional mind. I buried my face in my arms, stewing in my fear and anger and loneliness.

"You left me alone…"

"Exactly. Everyone else is dead, and I can't bring anyone else here until the first batch is done."

It clicked for a moment, but it took longer to sink in. He was using me, to avoid bringing more people into limbo for a while. I was the mouse, and he was the cat. He decided when the game would end, and the only power I had was to try and survive until then. It was a lousy existence, but an existence nonetheless. I wasn't sure whether this was mercy, or malice. Either way, I might as well go out doing a service to the world, even if it wasn't going to mean anything in the end.

"Leave me…I need to focus on not sleeping, and your presence drains me of the energy I don't have."

The Slenderman leaned down and looked me in the eyes. Well, he would have, if he had any.

"Do not disappoint me."

"I'll do as I please, Mr. Slenderman. After all, I am still human, and still have free will. Until the day death comes for me, I will remain that way. My fate is my own."

A soft, raspy laugh echoed around my head.

"Continue believing that. It will give you strength."

The Slenderman straightened up, looking down at me for a moment before disappearing, leaving me with a bit of static. I grumbled and rested my head on my arms, closing my eyes. I fought off sleep for hours, and any time I felt myself drifting, I could almost feel his presence, waiting and watching in the shadows. I didn't move, gathering my strength to be able to seek out the market again. Reality seemed twisted there, still faintly connected to the human world. If I could somehow find a means of breaching that reality, I could return home. I reached into my pocket, looking for my lighter. I never smoked, but it was always handy to have around people who did, and I had friends who would forget their lighter from time to time. It was also handy to have if you needed to start a fire, which I was hoping to do in order to stay warm. My fingers brushed against it, and something else that was cold and hard. I pulled it out, and found the stone that I was looking at when this all began. Its green and faded tan stripes gave me a strange sense of calm. I ran my thumb over the banded carving of the serpent zig-zagging over of the surface, finding comfort in it. I heaved a sigh, picking myself up at the first hint of light. The mist had drifted down, no longer as stifling as it had been. Surprisingly, the rain had slowed to a light sprinkling, which was somewhat refreshing as opposed to the torrential downpour of the past few days. A dull, grey light shone down from behind the clouds, lighting the city a little better.

My spirits were in no way high, but it was a new day, and I was the only one left. I had a purpose, albeit a poor one. I would show that Slenderman and his creator that I was perfectly capable of surviving until I no longer mattered. Sticking the stone in my pocket, I went in search of the market.

I found it after walking for a few hours, and it seemed to have a new selection today. I wondered to myself if it was somehow an anchor of sorts to the real world, because everything looked fresh and clean and new, like it should be. It stuck out like a sore thumb among the abandoned buildings and fading signs. I picked up a wicker basket from the basket stall, and started picking up various foods that I could make use of. I wrapped up various meats, grabbed handfuls of dried fruits and jerky, what appeared to be homemade power bars, and some tools that were toward the end of the market. I found a flint and steel keychain that would come in handy when my lighter ran out of fuel, and a multi-tool for emergencies. There was a stand selling hand-crafted swords and knives, and I took a hunting knife for use in preparing food. I might as well have taken what I needed from there, when I needed it. I decided that staying on the move would be slightly beneficial if there were more people, but since it was only me now, staying in one place wouldn't make a difference.

I decided to camp out in a building across the street from the market. It looked like a business building of some sort, with lots of broken and dingy windows and many floors. I decided to stake out the ground floor, where there was a fireplace in the lobby and various seating arrangements. I barricaded myself in a fort built out of furniture and dead potted plants, surrounding the fireplace at a safe distance while giving me ample cover. Since the day of no sleeping had passed, I started a fire with newspaper, magazines and some of the dead palms hanging around. Once that was done, I cooked the meat I picked up in a cast-iron pan made for traveling, ate it a little too hastily and burned my tongue, then curled up with my back to the wall of furniture and fell into fitful slumber.

I awoke a few hours later. It was just a power nap, but I would sleep more at a later time. I just didn't want to get caught sleeping during the night, when the time changed to the next day. I didn't know when it would be another day for no sleeping, and didn't want to chance it. Now that I was the last one alive, all eyes were on me. I couldn't falter in my performance, now. The show had to go on.

I went searching through the building, looking for a staff room or anything that was staff-only. I had always been curious as to what had been behind those doors as a child, and I was disappointed to find just long hallways leading to conference rooms, empty staff rooms, and various utilities like a boiler room and a kitchen. I wandered into one of the staff rooms and found a small kitchenette within. It had a microwave, a sink, and a fridge that must have been for communal use at one point. I looked around, checked the power, and was surprised to find that when I flipped the light switch, the hum of a generator bringing power to the building filled the air. It must have been a backup generator, as only the emergency lights flickered on. It was better than darkness, however. I had left my flashlight back in the apartment room, and I wasn't going back there. I opened the small fridge to find a multitude of spoiled foods and drinks, making the thing stink like hell. I resigned myself to cleaning it out and tossing the filth out the window. After a thorough cleaning with some of the chemicals under the sink, I had a working fridge that smelled less like death and more like moldy bleach. The freezer was thankfully empty, devoid of anything but a couple of ice packs that hadn't been used in years, judging by the complete lack of anything resembling ice. I checked the sink to see if it worked, but nothing came from the faucet. The boilers must not run off the generator, but I was no mechanic. If I had messed with it, I probably would have blown something up. The microwave was working, thankfully, and the stove ran off electric power rather than gas. That was also a good thing, as I was never good with gas stoves and would probably have blown something up that way, too.

I went out to the lobby and collected my few belongings, carrying them back to the staff room. With the couches and cooking equipment, I would have most of what I needed to keep myself alive and sane, for the most part. I rummaged around for anything I could use to cover myself with when sleeping, but only found a tablecloth with holes in it. It was better than nothing, though, and I reclined on the couch to get my thoughts in order. I closed my eyes to rest for a moment, trying to get as much sleep as I could in my situation. I managed to sleep for a little while longer, waking up around what I assumed to be midday or just after noon. The sky was still somewhat bright beyond the overcast of clouds, but I could see darker clouds moving in. I made up my mind to stay indoors for the rest of the day, but I wanted to explore more of the building to pass the time. So, taking some beef jerky with me, I wandered out of the staff room and sought to sate my curiosity. If I was going to be trapped here, I was going to make it worthwhile.

I climbed up as many flights as I could, until coming to a point somewhere between the fifth and sixth floors where the stairs looked like they had been smashed to avoid further advancement. I frowned, unhappy at having my curiosity denied, so I went back to the fifth floor to look around. I found a fire escape that led up, and hadn't been blocked. Grinning like a madman at having thwarted whoever broken the normal way up, I climbed up the narrow stairwell to the next floor. I looked around, but saw nothing of much interest; just a bunch of cubicles. There was a splotch of blood in one of them, and I decided not to dawdle too long. I climbed my way up to the next floor, then the next, then the next. Heaving, I came to the top floor, and found a service stairwell to the roof. I walked up and out into the cool, rainy air. The air up here was much windier, but fresher than the stagnant air below. It was less suffocating, and refreshing with the light sprinkling of the raindrops ghosting over my skin. In that moment, I felt calmer than I had in the past two days. I felt that, for some reason, everything would be okay in the end. I took a seat near the edge of the roof, looking out over the skyline. It was a great view, like something out of a science-fiction novel. You know, one of those post-apocalyptic ones. It was strangely beautiful, in a way.

I sat in peace and quiet, just watching the storm clouds drift overhead, listening to the soft howl of the wind as it rushed past my body, giving me goosebumps and throwing my dark hair in my face. I could almost imagine that I was sitting at home on a warm summer day, feeling the ocean breeze brushing past my face as I looked out over the endless waters off the coast of South Carolina. Nothing but sand and water for miles, and on days where the weather was stormy, the beaches would be mostly empty, and the storm clouds looked like the roiling surface of the sea. I could almost smell the salt in the air, feeling the spray of seafoam as the wind carried it through the air to kiss my skin. Almost…

I opened my eyes, breaking my reflection and bringing me back to my decaying reality. The ocean had faded into an endless sea of glass and concrete. The seafoam was just the sprinkle of the dreary rain, and the warmth of the sun turned into the chill of the wind. I looked up, squinting at the sky. I found myself wishing, with all of my being, that this was just a cruel dream. I wished for my mom to come walking into my bedroom to open my blinds and let the sun hit my face to wake me. I wished to go back…but no waking sunlight came to free me from this nightmare. No gentle hand stroked my forehead and willed me to get up for work with a smile. I was alone, in a dead landscape littered with blood and bone left behind by the predator that had been standing behind me for the past hour. Like a specter, he had appeared, standing in my shadow and watching silently, patiently waiting for me to notice him. I knew he was there. He was always watching, after all. Isn't that what the stories said? No eyes, yet always watching, always waiting.

I didn't acknowledge him. I think he knew I realized he was there, yet didn't care. It would normally have made me uneasy, but I had a sort of blank, unfeeling cloud in my head. I knew he wouldn't kill me. He would hold off until he had to, to avoid bringing others here, if that was really what he wanted. I had gone three days, now. What's a few more to someone who spends his time hunting? I was his prey, and he was just waiting for the right time to pounce. A silent, cold, uncaring killer…

The cool wind shifted to come from the side, whisking my hair out of my face and over my shoulder. The sprinkling had started to grow in volume, turning into a steady drizzle. I decided to go back inside, to get out of the rain before the brunt of the storm came. A rooftop was not the best place to be in a thunderstorm. I stood up, turning and passing the Slenderman wordlessly. I felt one of his tendrils reach out and brush my shoulder curiously, but I paid it no mind. I started to descend the stairs, working my way back down as the thunder started to roll overhead. At home, I used to love thunderstorms. But, in a world where all it does is rain and the sun never warms your face, it quickly becomes drab and depressing.

At every floor, the Slenderman would appear at the door leading out, but I continued to descend the stairs coldly. He didn't faze me, and I was no longer surprised by his appearances. I felt cold, my previous childlike curiosity having been sated and leaving nothing more than the drive to survive in its wake, along with a chilling dissociated numbness. Everything felt washed out and dull to me in those moments. There was no color, nothing to look forward to. Every sign that would normally be lit at this time was hanging lifeless in dirty windows. There were no people to keep me company, and little warmth to be shared. I decided to start a fire in the fireplace at ground level, to warm up and dry my clothes a bit. I tried combing through my knotted and greasy hair with my fingers, but only succeeded in breaking most of my already thin and fragile strands. With a sigh, I decided I should probably go out in search of a shop or grocery with shampoo and soap. I wanted to be clean when I died, at least. Even if my body would be covered in blood, or maybe just be a smear on the wall, at least I would feel clean when it happened.

I stepped out into the rain, and walked around looking for anyplace that might have shampoo. There was a hotel across the way, which was perfect for me. They would have loads of little shampoo bottles, soaps, towels, and even blankets and pillows that I could use. With any luck, I would find an umbrella. So, with mild spark excitement, I ran through the rain to the hotel entrance. It was dark and empty, of course. The elegant entrance would have been lovely were it not falling into disarray and spattered with the crusty remains of what appeared to be blood. I decided not to worry about appearances when I found a functional umbrella in a container near the doors. My spirits having been lifted a bit, I headed to the front desk to find a map of the hotel. I located the laundry rooms and storage, wanting to leave as soon as possible. I walked the narrow, unlit hallway beyond the "STAFF ONLY" doors, heading to the laundry first. I found pillowcases and bedding in abandoned hampers, washers still half-filled with water and laundry, and dryers that no longer worked. I searched the dryers, and the bedding was fairly well preserved. The sheets smelled clean, and the fluffy comforters where only mildly deflated from time. With a bit of fluffing, they would be comfortable again. I took a sheet and a comforter with me, then headed to the storage room for pillows, shampoo and the like.

The storage room was cold and dark, as I suspected. I found plenty of shampoo and soap, various washcloths, and pillows. I used the bedding as a sack to carry what I could, slinging it over my shoulder. I headed back toward the lobby, and Slenderman was standing outside the entryway, watching from a distance. I found it odd how quiet he was being. I had grown used to his unrelenting watchfulness, but I started feeling that twinge of fear as I started wondering just how long I had left. His featureless face stared at me, no doubt knowing how uncomfortable it made me. With a huff, I started out the door and passed him by. He certainly wasn't being very scary, just creeping around and following me. I walked back across the street, dropping off my load before realizing I had left my umbrella at the hotel. I almost said fuck it, but an umbrella in this situation was preferable to wandering around in the rain all the time, getting wet and cold. With a defeated sigh, I walked back out into the rain and over to the hotel. In the distance, somewhere down the road, I saw the lone figure waiting and watching. When I went inside to find the umbrella, however, it was gone.

I swore under my breath and sat down just outside the rotating doors, sitting on the semi-dry pavement as I watched the rain drizzle down. My vision was shot with a bit a static and I flinched, looking over to the long legs of my shadow.

"What do you-"

He silenced me with a finger, the other hand still behind his back. My lips were left with a cold sensation after his gloved finger removed itself from them. His other hand came out from behind his back, and in a fluid motion, the umbrella popped open and was held over my head. Confused, I took the umbrella from him and stood up.

"Uh-"

He silenced me again, and I shut my mouth. I nodded to him in thanks, and he nodded back before disappearing, leaving me alone once more. I stood there with the umbrella for a moment, looking down the road where his lone figure stood, watching. I was unsure as to what kind of game he was playing with me, but I didn't like it. It was as if he were toying with me, making me believe that he wasn't all that bad, yet always reminding me in his own way that one day, he would kill me. It was torturous. I wanted to believe that he could be alright, but then his monstrous half shows its ugly face and turns me back into a sniveling pile of fear. I frowned and went back to the staff room, prepping the less-than-ideal couch with a sheet. I put a pillow down at the head, and fluffed out the comforter to make it light again. I tested it out, laying on the clean-smelling sheet and fluffy pillow. Nothing was more comfortable in that moment then that couch. In all the discomfort and fear, that couch was something that brought me some semblance of home. I laid there, staring at the ceiling as tears started coming to my eyes. I felt no real emotion to cause the tears, but at this point, it was stress relief. Everything was terrible, and my only way to deal with it was to let the tears flow as they came.

The clock on the wall seemed to be working, for once. I didn't know if it was the real time, but I didn't care. It said it was a few minutes after midnight, and with how dark it was, I would have believed it. I laid there for a while, just tucked into my cocoon of warmth and comfort. I was shaken viciously from my bed by the sudden appearance of my hunter. I leaped from my comfortable blankets as he looked around at my hideaway. I held my hunting knife in one hand, having grabbed it from the back of the couch and had crouched behind it, watching him with narrowed eyes. I flinched as my vision briefly filled with static and made my eyes hurt.

"Agh! Stop that!" I snapped, holding my head.

"Hmm?"

"Stop it!"

"Stop what? This?"

The static returned, this time more violently. My eyes spasmed for a moment and my head filled with the sound of static.

"Yes! Stop that!"

"I apologize. It's a habit."

I grumbled and crouched down further behind the couch, resting my head against the back of it and waiting for the pain of the static to go away.

"You've gotten comfortable."

"Well, I was…"

He turned his eyeless gaze toward me.

"What?"

"Ugh, nothing…"

I sighed and popped my head back up over the couch to look at him, but he wasn't there. My vision got distorted again, and he appeared by my side, looking down at me with hands clasped behind his back, as usual.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, falling back onto my rear and scrambling away, uncomfortable with his closeness.

He tilted his head back slowly, as if asking, "Really?" I frowned.

"Why are you here?"

He looked back down at me wordlessly.

"…Well?!" I asked, getting frustrated.

He gave me the most awkward-looking shrug I had ever seen. His shoulders were far too stiff, and his arms too long to make it anything but.

"…So you're just here, creeping on me and making me uncomfortable in my final days?"

"I…tried to make you less uncomfortable."

I had to think about it for a second before choosing my next words.

"You said that you didn't care about anything anymore."

He seemed to think about that for a moment, his gaze never leaving from my face, which was rather disturbing and made me recoil a bit. He must have been fighting a bit of an internal battle, because he distorted once or twice and twitched his neck. He remained quiet, however, before disappearing and reappearing again like a broken image. I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing in my frustration.

"If you could just…go, that would be great. I'd like to spend my last days alive in relative peace, thank you."

He looked at me as I stood and walked into the kitchenette, setting my knife down on the counter. I turned to look at him, but he teleported in front of me, tentacles buzzing and branching angrily behind him. I grabbed the lip of the counter and leaned back, wincing as one of the strange appendages ghosted over my shoulders. He stood still as the grave, but the tentacles were producing an ear-ringing hum as they swarmed behind him. I thought I was done for, turning away from him and closing my eyes. One of the ghostly black tentacles brushed against my cheek, and another wrapped itself around my forearm. It wasn't a firm grasp, nor a rough one. I cracked an eye open to look up at him, heart pounding. He lifted a hand and pressed it firmly against the side of my throat, making me grimace at the cold contact.

"If you're going to do it, then do it!" I snapped. "Stop taunting me with life when death is all that awaits me."

He pressed his fingers harder against the side of my throat, digging into my veins as if feeling my racing pulse. He pulled away slowly, the tentacles retreating as well. My breath hissed between my clenched teeth glaring at him.

"What was that? Who the hell do you think you are?"

He stood there for a moment. The static returned, but I didn't blink this time. No wincing, no shirking; just staring at the shallow depressions where there should have been eyes. He distorted a moment, the static getting worse in my head, but I refused to look away. I thought I could almost see the curve of a grin, and much to my horror, a thin line appeared and started to stretch across his face, splitting it almost in half. The thin line separated to reveal a massive mouth, filled with rows of long, pointed teeth and a tongue the length of my forearm. Again, I closed my eyes and looked away. I had read the stories, the ones where he would rip the throat from his victims with an invisible mouth. I was afraid that this was the way I'd go, forgotten as part of a monster's meal. I felt a sob start to choke me, and let it out as my eyes started watering. It wasn't just of fear, but of anger; anger at myself for being so stupid and leaving my friends behind, at begging for death rather than trying to live. I opened my eyes and looked the monster in his non-existent ones, letting the tears fall down my cheeks. The mouth went from what could only be described as a wicked grin, to a frown. As if being zipped from the corners, it slowly started to disappear. Just as I started to relax enough to feel my limbs shaking from strain, a tentacle grabbed me by the neck and threw me down onto the floor. Anger overtook fear once again.

"What the hell is your problem?!" I yelled between sobs, looking down at the floor.

"You."

"_Me_?!" I coughed in disbelief at the irony of the statement. "I'm _your_ problem?!"

A tentacle embedded itself in the floor beside my head, and I looked up at the tall, thin figure staring at me from the kitchenette.

"_You_."

I could almost catch what seemed like a sliver of sadness in the statement.

"M…Me? What about me?" I asked. "You…you don't talk to me. You only give me reasons to be miserable! You won't tell me how to help you! There's got to be a way out! You told me that you don't want to kill people, right?!"

He remained still, the ghostly tentacle still embedded in the floor beside me.

"I…I don't know if you're really not that bad of a guy…you give me reasons from time to time to continue fighting to live, but then you become a monster and this shit happens! Make up your fucking mind! Do you want me to help you, or do you really enjoy killing innocent people?!"

"Stop."

"No! I won't stop! I want answers!"

"Stop!"

"You can't-"

I regretted the words before they even came out of my mouth. In retaliation, the monster sent another tentacle my way, wrapping around my throat and squeezing, smacking my head down against the floor. I tried to grasp at it, but my hands passed right through. I coughed, trying to force air into my lungs.

"I don't…want to…"

The grip loosened.

"I…kill. No…"

He no longer seemed to be talking to me, but the tentacle seemed to constrict and release at odd intervals, making me gasp when I could and hold my breath when I couldn't. My vision was going blurry from lack of air.

"Let…L-Let go," I wheezed. "P-Please…"

The tentacle paused for a moment before retracting rather hastily. The writhing mass on the Slenderman's back slowly disappeared back beneath his suit. I stared fearfully at him, scrambling to put my back against something. I ended up against the wall. He teleported in front of me and got down on one knee, his impossibly-long limbs awkward when bending at normal joints. He reached toward me, but I swatted his hand away. He tried again, and received the same result.

"Go away!" I sobbed. "Monster!"

He tried once more, and managed to grab hold of my shoulder, giving me a firm shake and making me look up at his blank face, biting my tongue.

"A-Are you deaf?! I said-"

"Silence."

The word was so cold that I found myself forced to be quiet.

"I could have killed you yesterday."

My mouth hung open for a moment.

"The Rule was no noise."

I hung my head, looking at anything but him. What point was there in telling me this?

"…Why?"

"Perhaps there is something more to us than what we must show," he said, as if speaking for me as well.

That made me look up at him, confused by his words.

"What…What are you…"

I frowned.

"Are you…trying to be friendly? Because right now, it's not working very well."

The Slenderman made a hissing noise, and my vision filled with static again.

"I am a monster. What do you honestly suspect?"

He had a point, but was this just part of his game? I found myself agitated by his words; agitated and confused even more. His grip firmed on my shoulder, and I gave him my attention.

"I cannot apologize for what I cannot help but do…But I can at least make your brief existence less miserable, if you will just survive."

It was a proposition for friendship. He had taken away my friends, and everyone else who could have been. How could I just…accept that?

"You destroyed the people I wanted to be with, and took me away from the rest. My family and friends are gone, a world away, and you want to be my _friend_?"

"I never said it was going to be easy for either of us."

I was unsure of what to say. He wasn't even a human being. He was…well, he was a monster, and he would end up killing me, probably one day soon. But, on the other hand, he was the only living thing out here. I was the only one left, and what better way to spend your final days than with your murderer? I sighed heavily. That logic was very skewed, not like this world wasn't. It was an ironic twist thrown into the already cruel twist that fate had decided to give me. The question was, should I, or shouldn't I? The Slenderman was nightmare fuel for many. He was unpredictable, a stalker, a _monster_ that lurked in the dark and was told to prey upon children. It would seem that anyone was game for him, now that he was real. Maybe children were too easy for this Creator fella, and wanted more of a challenge to get his kicks. What a cruel, cruel man he must be…I wondered if he was watching now, waiting for my answer.

"Do you…know when he's watching?" I asked. "Your…Your creator?"

He nodded shortly.

"I would not dare approach you while he's watching. Not…in this manner, at least."

I thought about that for a few minutes in silence. Was it another part of the creator's game? To play with my frayed emotions by making me befriend the monster just so I could be betrayed by it? To let me believe that in the end, the monster will find something humane in its heart and not kill me, and we can escape this realm together?

It was brilliant, if it was. My sanity was on its last legs anyway, so let's dive head-first into insanity. Why not?

"I'll…I'll think on it. I'll know by the end of the day, if I want to accept..."

The Slenderman must have accepted this as an answer, because he stood up and towered over me.

"I'll be watching."

And just like that, he vanished and left me sitting against the wall with the cold sensation of his hand still planted on my shoulder.

"What am I thinking?" I mouthed to myself, looking down at the floor where the black tentacle had left a hole the size of a baseball.

I kept telling myself that I would have to be insane to let that monster trick me into befriending it. What would we do in this empty town, anyway? Walk down the street sharing pleasantries? I hardly think the more monstrous side of him would allow for that. What benefit would he have with making a friend out of me? Would it amuse the creator into letting his pet play with me for a while longer than usual? Or was he really just a lonely soul, deprived of kindness and wishing that his victims had the time to see the side of him that really wasn't all that bad?

Pffft, nah.

I wracked my brain, trying to figure out just what could cause him to be so conflicted about me. I could see it in his body language that he was fighting an inner battle. When I thought back on it, I could recall that happening a time or two before, where his body would get all distorted and my vision fuzzy and painful. It was as if the force of his mental struggling was enough to affect the outside world. I brought my thoughts back to the reason why he would want to befriend me. It confused me so much that I started getting agitated again. I didn't know if I could stay in his presence, with that static. Did he want to talk more with me? Because, if that was the case, he could have done so while he was here. Was he trying to help me? I had so many questions that were left unanswered by him…Maybe he could tell me more while his creator wasn't looking. How was this guy watching us, anyway? Is he an actual god of sorts? Or perhaps he was a really smart person in the real world, who sits in his basement watching Slenderman kill people in real time? I didn't know, nor did I think I ever would know. My fate was here, in this plane of lonely existence, stuck with a monster that was going to be my friend, only to turn around and literally stab me in the back…with his tentacles. Probably more than once. I shuddered, images of the dead people I had seen up to this point. I really wasn't so shocked by it after all that had taken place. It was just something that happened in this plane of reality. When people disappear in the real world, and no one finds any trace of them or where they had gone, it was likely they had all been summoned by the Slenderman and his creator.

When the next day came, the dark clouds and heavy rain came with it. I walked out in the street, staring up at the rain and trying to find peace in it. I needed to find peace in something – anything – to stop the roiling mass of fear, anger, sorrow, and defeat that was building in my core. I started having random panic attacks, and would start forgetting what I was doing or where I was in the blink of an eye. My mind was scattered, and I felt a creeping numbness starting to edge its way into me. I fought it off, not wanting to lose the feeling that I had. I knew what depression felt like, and I knew that the numbness would lead to a long expanse of not feeling anything but pain and suffering in between bouts of nothingness and meaninglessness. Those were not things I could afford to feel when my survival was necessary to…some kind of end. I wasn't quite sure I knew what that end was. Would it justify the means to it? Would it warrant all of this pain, fear and paranoia? Was it worth the constant feeling of being watched and knowing that something was waiting in the shadows for your next move? I didn't think it would be. Not rightfully so, anyway. If I survived through this, somehow, I don't think anyone would believe me if I tried to explain it.

I turned around and nearly bumped right into the hunter again. I needed to start keeping my wits about me more than I already did. His fondness for sneaking up on me was not doing my heart any favors. His tentacles writhed behind him, and I covered my mouth and turned away until the shock of the moment passed. The breath I had needed to scream had been caught in my throat, and I started coughing instead. He bent his body stiffly at the waist, looking down at me as if concerned, yet tentacles poised to attack. Once I had regained my composure, I straightened up and cleared my throat.

"I get that you're supposed to be spooky and terrifying, and I kind of feel it, but I'm feeling more annoyed than anything else right now. What do you want?"

He straightened up himself and stood silent for a minute, the rain seeming to hit him, yet never wetted his fancy suit or pale head. His hands were clasped behind him, as was his usual stance. As he stood there, silent and unwavering, I started to feel a little more uncomfortable than was normal at this point. I decided not to bring up anything about our proposed "friendship" until he did, knowing that I wasn't the one with the connection to the Creator.

"Are you…here to give me a hint about the Rule for today?"

He continued to stand there, stock still. I made to step back and get some distance between us, but before I could even go through the motion, a mass of tentacles swarmed around me, inches from my frame and surrounding me in a pitch blackness that blotted out every sound and everything in view but his silhouette. I immediately stopped moving. Was that it? No moving? After I had already made my way out here to the middle of the rainy street?

As soon as I froze, the tentacles withdrew from me, sinking into Mr. Slenderman's back once again and bringing back the view of the city around me. He remained still until he teleported a few yards away, then again and again until he was out of sight. I took this time to slowly inch my way back inside, deciding that the safest place to be right now was on my couch, not going anywhere or doing anything. I kept an eye out for him, looking around frantically before each slow step until I finally got inside. I was soaked to the bone, and freezing cold.

I managed to get back to my sleeping arrangement, prying off my wet shirt and shorts and laying them out on the floor to dry a little. I had been hoping to use the torrential downpour to wash out my messy hair and lather up a little bit, but it would seem that plan would have to wait. So, I sat on my couch, wrapped up in my comforter to stave off the chill of having been drenched, and waited. I used this "time-out" to get some more sleep. Thankfully, I'm not a toss-and-turner, else I'd probably have not woken up. It had grown darker outside, and the rain was still falling. I felt the need to use a bathroom, and the only toilet that was usable was the one across the hall, which ran off the reserve power and drew only cold water from the boiler room. That involved moving, however, and I didn't know how close Slenderman was at this point. He could be waiting down the hall, or just around the corner. He could appear in the stall and stand there, making me wait until he left to use the bathroom. My bladder felt like it was going to explode if I held it any longer, though, so I bolted. I had never peed so fast in my life. As soon as I was done, I bounded across the hallway and leaped back into my bed, wrapping up in my blanket once more and feeling both relieved and terrified of having to move so fast before the Slenderman spotted me.

It made me question whether or not he really was always watching. That was the gimmick, anyway. He was supposed to be ever vigilant, always knowing where you are, always being there in the background, just a smudge in the trees that could be mistaken for a few long branches…But here there were no trees; just empty streets and decaying buildings in an endless state of miserable rain. Maybe it was more like a game of hide and seek mixed with Simon says. You hide, and you wait. If the Slenderman catches you, and you screw up the Simon says while he's watching, you die. That's how it seemed with everyone else. Yet, for me, he was going to painstaking lengths to keep his distance unless he needed to tell me something. It was as if he was trying to make sure that I survived by not watching too diligently. I knew I couldn't let that make me lazy, though. In an instant, he could go from being helpful, to being ruthless, and I had seen the brunt of it. I learned to never let my guard down. I was sure that he could only make exceptions so many times before his creator became bored and demanded a fresh start.

Midnight came again, and I found myself staring off into the darkness of my room. My eyes were playing tricks on me, making me see dark tendrils or moving shapes in the darkest corners, my paranoia setting in. I was waiting for him to show up. I could feel him watching, waiting. I kept looking around, tucking myself under the blankets and shivering. It had been the first day that my muscles weren't overstressed, and it was taking its toll on them. My legs were shaky and unsteady, and my hands refused to stop moving. I was jittery, and every muscle felt like it had been torn apart numerous times. I had knots where I never thought I could them from the strain of living in fear that each day could very well be your last. I tried not to think about the possibility, trying to delude myself into being shocked when it finally happened. It would make it hurt less emotionally. The physical pain is what I was worried about. Would I be torn apart like some of the others? Turned into a fine red paste? Strangled? Skewered? Was there even a gentle way to die here? I was scared…scared of the unknown, and the very creature who embodied that was trying to be my friend. He wasn't a perfect re-creation of the stories, lacking a few qualities and having a few that he shouldn't, but perhaps he developed them, or the Creator gave him those abilities for some strange purpose.

I turned my head, half-expecting to see him standing there. For once, though, he hadn't teleported to my side to send my heart racing. My gaze only met the window, where water streamed down the panes of glass in tiny rivulets. I found them strangely pretty as I watched them squiggle like clear snakes. I looked at my shorts, laying out on the floor. I stood up and put them on, mumbling to myself about how stiff they were. My shirt was the same way, but it provided me with cover. I stuck my hand in my pocket and pulled out that little jade stone with the snake carved into it. I sighed as I looked it over, and found myself glad that I would be dying here. How would I be able to live my life knowing I was the only one who lived through this? How could I explain to Casey's parents where she had gone? No, it was better this way. It would save me a lifetime of pain and wondering why it happened to us.

I opened the window and looked outside, breathing in the smell of the rain. It was laced with the scent of death and wet concrete, but it was storming too hard for me to want to go to the roof again. Maybe if there were another day of sprinkling, it would do me good. While it had left me daydreaming about home, at least I had something to daydream about.

I looked down at the road and spotted Slenderman standing there, watching in the darkness. I remembered my words to him, about how I would have decided whether or not to accept his offer. Images of his wrongdoings flashed through my mind as I leaned out the window, still staring at him. My vision blurred for a moment, and he was gone. I sighed, the image of Sandra splattered over the sofa of the living room, and Casey drained of blood to be used as ink came and went through my mind's eye. I found myself feeling more and more alone. Normally, my temper would have flared up at these facts, but at this point, I didn't really have the energy to _be_ angry. I leaned back from the window and closed it, pressing my forehead against the cold glass and rubbing the goosebumps on my arms. I continued to stare out the window for a bit, feeling detached and sad. I turned away to look at the empty room I was living in. It all crashed over me like a wave; the realization that I would never feel the sun again, or smell the ocean breeze. I would never see my family, friends, or all of the people I'd get to meet…it would just be me, alone in this empty void filled with a dead city and dead people. I would just be another face in the paper, another disappearance. No one would find me.

I dropped to my knees, losing the strength in my legs to stand. I just stared at the dark room for what felt like an hour before letting the torrent of tears flow. The rain outside did nothing to drown out the sound of my agonized sobbing as I fell over onto my side and curled up into a fetal position, fingers grasping at my dirty shirtsleeves just to have something to hold. I was never very good at crying softly and delicately, like most people I knew. I was a loud sobber, and very messy. Nothing graceful or cinematic about my fits. Snot ran down the side of my face with my tears, and I hastily wiped it away, only managing to smear it messily over my arm. I rolled onto my back, putting my hand over my forehead as if it would comfort me, or hide the mess on my face from onlookers. I choked on my sobs, throwing me into a coughing fit mixed with the pained noises coming from my chest. I don't know how long I was there, draining my eyes of every bit of moisture until I had no more tears to cry. I left myself in the floor, feeling as if crawling to the couch took too much effort.

So suddenly did I find myself in the air, that I let out the strangest sound I had ever heard come from my mouth. It was something in the likeness of a squawk mixed with a shout of surprise and a squeaky door hinge. The Slenderman had teleported where I was laying, and was holding me in a mass of tentacles while I was still lying on my back. I'm not sure what surprised me more; the cold of those black tentacles, or the fact that he had teleported and picked me up with such swiftness that I couldn't even register it in the split second that had happened. This just made me cry harder, because I realized that I could die just as quickly as that, if not faster.

"P-P-Put me d-down!" I said, trying to be angry between the sobs that refused to stop choking me.

The Slenderman didn't say a word. He just started swaying his tentacles back and forth, and I found it reminiscent of the rocking of the ocean. This both startled and calmed me, in the strangest combination of feelings I had ever felt. I was conflicted, but the gentle rocking motion somehow relaxed me, despite being suspended on a bed of cold, black tentacles instead of an intertube. I could feel them writhing beneath me like snakes, and while it was somewhat disturbing, the fact that the Slenderman was trying to calm me left me feeling a little less unpleasant. It was probably the most human thing I had seen him do.

"I…am a monster."

I turned my head to him, and felt the tentacles spasm a little beneath me.

"But I am not without reason or understanding."

I turned away from him, a bit disconcerted by his facelessness. I tried to word what I wanted to say, and went over it in my head for a moment before opening my sticky mouth and asking, "What about emotion?"

The rocking stopped, and for a moment, I thought he would drop me or fly into that monstrous side again. To my surprise, the gentle rocking continued.

"Some."

I left it at that. I shouldn't push it so soon.

"Do you have an answer, for me?" he asked, his disembodied voice echoing in my head.

To be honest, I didn't. I was so unsure of myself, and I knew that I couldn't trust the fiend. You had to know how desperate I felt in that moment for any reason not to say, "I…accept."

The words seemed to ooze from my lips, as if my body knew more than my brain that those words were an abomination. It left me feeling a bit filthy on the inside, with a bitter taste and a strange, cottony sensation in my mouth. Of course, my mouth was sticky from the ridiculously immense amount of crying that I had subjected myself to just moments before, so it only served to make me more aware of my miserable state.

"So," I began, "what's in it for you?"

The white face tilted to the side questioningly.

"There has to be a reason why you're doing this. What could I possibly provide that would be beneficial to you?" I asked, knowing that I was treading thin ice.

He didn't seem too put off by the question. In fact, he simply stared at me.

"Company."

I stared up at the ceiling, the gentle rocking making me sleepy.

"Well, I suppose that would require someone to be willing to talk to you," I sighed. "Why me?"

"You ask many questions."

"You _raise_ many questions."

He seemed to reflect on that for a moment.

"Because you are…of interest to me."

I chuckled softly. It was a nervous habit of mine, to chuckle or giggle in the face of danger. It calmed me somehow, as if the action released some of the tension and nerves. The Slenderman stood in silence, listening and thinking. Any form of "happy" sound must have been foreign to him.

"You don't do this often, do you?" I asked.

"There was one other…"

He trailed off, tilting his head back and remaining silent.

"I do not enjoy discussing him. It makes me…feel."

"…Feel what?"

"I am unsure. Something…violent."

I gulped and glanced down at the tentacles still gently rocking me back and forth, like a squirmy hammock.

"Was he…mean?"

"No…terrified. He hated me, but he lasted the longest because I gave him the clues he needed to survive. I…tried to be gentle with him when his time came. I was forced to play rough, when the monster in me took control."

I took note that there was definitely a change in his demeanor between the time he had thrown me around, and the time we were spending together now. He didn't seem angry or…eager to shed blood. He almost felt normal. Almost.

"Is there…anything I can do?" I asked softly, fearing that a loud voice would bring out that monster.

The Slenderman looked at me, the rest of his body just as unmoving as ever. The tentacles beneath me began to shift, and dropped me lightly on the couch. I pulled my knees up to my chest, and he teleported to stand beside me. His gloved hands reached out and pulled the blanket up to my chin, avoiding contact with my skin.

"Forgive me…"

I looked up at him as he straightened up, his tentacles having retracted into his back again. That was a tall order to ask me for, after what he had done and what he would do. A part of me said hell no, but another part of me said that it would be okay. This Slenderman, the nicer one, was not as much at fault as the darker side. I had a feeling the creator made him this way to toy with his victims, and torture the creature itself into becoming just as ruthless as the stories told. After all, he did say before that he didn't much care for anything _anymore._ It implied that, at one point, he wasn't so cold and unfeeling.

"I…can try," I said, wrapping the blanket around myself. "I'm…not sure what to think, right now. Everything is falling apart."

"I apologize."

He disappeared, leaving me alone. I wasn't sure if he was apologizing for leaving, or for the fact that my life was coming to a rapid and tragic end. It could have been both, I suppose. I looked out at the gradually lightening sky, and was glad to see that some of the clouds looked less heavy and foreboding. I hoped that the rain would let up a little. I wanted to explore a little, to keep myself sane by walking around and looking into different buildings.

I had taken to calling the nice Slenderman, "Slendy." He didn't seem to care much, but I felt it only fair to distinguish him from the other side of him, which liked to pop up when I was least expecting it. When the rain turned to a light misting, I had walked out onto the street with my umbrella in search of something to do. I think the Creator had noticed I was getting too comfortable and confident, so he threw me a curve ball that made me think twice about letting my guard down.

When I entered what seemed to be a school, I found the winding hallways and long corridors to be entertaining, to some extent. I was exploring, and my curiosity in the city had returned. Of course, this building was just as decrepit as the rest of them, so there was no power and no heat. In fact, it felt oddly cold. I rounded several corners, seeking to lose myself in the building and make a game of how quickly I could find the exit. I wasn't aware of the Rule of the day, nor did I think it mattered. The Creator decided to choose that day to fuck with me.

I jogged down one of the hallways, picked up speed, and skid around the corner to another. I was actually having some semblance of fun, like a child running through a maze. I slowed down a bit to catch my breath when I realized that the temperature felt lower than when I walked in. I leaned against the wall, resting for a moment and rubbing my arms to get some friction and warmth. I turned to look down the long hallway, counting the number of classroom doors in my head, when I spotted a tall figure at the very end.

"I found you," said a low whisper. It sounded distant and broken up, like an old radio.

I watched the figure stand there for a little while, my vision slowly growing fuzzy. Blinking brought a wave of static interference, and I had to look away. When I glanced over again, the figure was gone. I started to feel a bit nervous, and began walking hurriedly down the corridor. The air was frigid, and I could see the puffs of vapor from my mouth as I panted, instantly regretting my decision to get lost in this empty school. I found a janitor's closet that led down into a boiler room, so I avoided that area for the time being. I instinctively knew that I needed to focus on getting out of the building. Something wasn't right about Slendy today.

I found the cafeteria, which was difficult to maneuver through with the darkness and myriad of overturned chairs and tables. I picked my way through it, and managed to reach the end of the room where the registers sat, alone and unmanned. I slipped into the kitchen, hoping to find an emergency exit. The only one I found, however, was jammed shut. I licked my chapped lips nervously, feeling jittery again. I climbed back out from behind the rusted steam tables full of dingy water, heading for the front of the building. Once I reached the main hallway, I could see the main doors at the very end. Slendy, however, was standing there. His tentacles were swaying behind him in an oddly predatory manner. They were all trained on me, and when they shot toward me, I knew that something was very wrong. I yelped and started running in the opposite direction, not even stopping to look back. I could hear the strange, almost leathery squeaking that his tentacles made when they extended, and could almost feel the chill of their presence against the small of my back. I ducked into a classroom and slammed the door, catching some of the writhing things in the doorjamb.

I panted and watched them wriggle and squirm before being pulled through the crack. Slendy's figure was outlined in the frosted glass, and the air grew ever colder. I shivered and hid behind the teacher's desk as the door swung open on rusty hinges, making a grating sound that made me wish I had never grown teeth. I could feel him, searching the room with those tentacles. I could see some of them creeping up along the ceiling, a void of darkness following in their wake. I covered my mouth to muffle the sound of my breathing, closing my eyes and willing him to go into the next classroom so that I could slip out and make my way to another building until I thought I was safe to go back to my room.

As if my wishing worked, he teleported out of the room and vanished. I quickly and cautiously stole away from the classroom, poking my head out to look up and down the hallway before tucking into a roll and pressing myself against the opposite wall. I kept my eyes open for him as I crawled quietly down the hall, trying to avoid making any noise. When I came to the end of the hall, I looked down the way I had come from, knowing that the entrance was nearby. I just needed to navigate as silently as possible to avoid being caught. Of course, when the one I'm trying to avoid teleports around unpredictably, I only have so much time before he pops up again.

I spotted him at the furthest end of the hallway opposite mine, just watching the halls for me. I took a deep breath, steeled myself, then stood up and bolted for the main entrance. He must have anticipated this, because he teleported in front of me and forced me to dodge away from him, only managing to land in a mass of black tentacles. They were not gentle this time, grabbing at my limbs and enveloping my ribs and stomach. I ground my teeth as I was suspended in the air, everything being blotted out by the inky blackness that seemed to follow those tentacles like a shadow. All I could see was him, standing there and distorting like a television with bad signal. I squirmed in the tight, suffocating grasp of the bands around my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs. I tried to wriggle out of their iron grip, but to no avail. They felt so solid against my body, yet I couldn't touch them willingly. I felt my ribs creaking, sending pain throbbing through my upper body. My lungs were burning for air, and my ribs felt like they would snap if he didn't stop. His image kept distorting, my vision filling with static and pouring pain into my head. I would have tried to plead with him to stop, but I couldn't even get the air into my lungs to speak. My breathing turned into wheezing, and my ribs continued to be crushed. I felt like a squeaky toy slowly having the air squeezed out of it.

I thought it must have been my time, and tried not to let myself be frightened by it. Trying to be brave, and actually being brave are two different levels of effort, and I just couldn't manage. The agony of my body being continually squeezed, the burning of my lungs as they failed to fill with air, and the bitter cold of the air and limbs grappling me were all too much, and I prayed that my death would come quickly. It never did, though. He loosened his hold on my chest, allowing me to take in a sweet, sweet lungful of air. The stale air never tasted so delicious. It was short-lived, because the squeezing started again. He was torturing me, teasing me with oxygen before squeezing it out of me once more while my head was full of static and my ears were ringing with my frantic heartbeats. Tears were squeezed from my eyes, even after I had believed myself to be cried-out. I couldn't sob, but the tears dripped down my cheeks and onto the tentacles constricting my ribs. I wondered to myself why this was happening. Had I broken a rule? Was he going to kill me? Or was his monstrous side so in control right now that he was just toying with me for the hell of it? I clenched my teeth as I felt my bottom ribs crack, stealing the remaining wind from my lungs and sending a new wave of pain shooting through my chest and back.

The crunch of the ribs giving way must have given him some sort of sick satisfaction. I watched as that awful split of his mouth began to twist into a cruel smile, his pale flesh stretching across the toothy maw like taught rubber. That awful, snaking tongue slithered from the gaping cavity, writhing as it hung down his lower jaw. At that point, I was sure that I was going to die. I kept waiting and enduring, regretting having let him trick me into thinking he wasn't all that bad of a guy. I shouldn't have felt betrayed, because I knew this was coming, but a part of me had really wanted to believe he was good, somewhere beneath that impossibly black suit and tie.

I blacked out, falling into a blissful void where pain was no more and fear faded away. I drifted in the darkness, floating alone as I waited for something to happen. I felt myself falling, and in a painful snap back to reality, I woke up gasping for breath, which made my broken ribs grind against each other. I was lying on the floor of the hallway, my back on the grimy tile as I stared up at the sagging ceiling in disbelief. I was alive, albeit in a lot of pain. I tried to move, but found myself paralyzed. My body felt numb, and I was desperately trying to avoid breathing too deeply or too often to save myself from the grinding of my bones. When I gathered the strength and courage, I sat up and slowly pushed myself to my wobbly legs. I leaned against the wall, panting and wiping away the damp patches on my cheeks. I fought to stay upright, using the wall to support me as I headed to the main entrance. I managed to head outside, feeling the miserable spray of water from above. I felt awful, like my whole body had been subjected to a battering ram.

I barely made it to the couch before collapsing. I didn't have the strength in my legs to lift them onto the couch, so I just sat there and pulled my blanket around me, sniffling despondently. Everything hurt, and I had nothing to wrap my chest in to help steady the broken ribs. I didn't even know just how broken they were. It felt like the left one was more broken than the right, but I was no doctor. I tentatively prodded at my sides to try and find out, but it had the same effect as being punched in a particularly bad bruise, so I stopped.

I was startled when he showed up in my room several hours later, and I threw the comforter over my head to hide.

"Oh God please, no!" I begged, seeing how his tentacles were swaying behind him. "I didn't do anything, I swear!"

He remained silent, and when I opened a crack in my fluffy armor, one of those tentacles shot forward. I flinched, but the touch was gentle and curious. It turned into a soft caress of the side of my face, almost feeling apologetic. I looked up, eyes red and watery as Slendy stooped down to my level and peeled back the blanket. My bottom lip stuck out in a frightened pout as I flinched away from him when he reached out to me. I felt his cold hand rest upon my head, and he seemed genuinely concerned.

"You…are hurt?" he asked, as if he didn't know or realize just what had happened. "Did I…?"

I nodded, and he withdrew from me, straightening up.

"He is getting bored…and impatient. He wants blood."

I looked up fearfully at him. Even though his face had no distinguishing features, he wasn't completely blank. I could read the subtle changes in the shadows that fell across the blank canvas of his head, forming what could be eyebrows furrowed in thought. His mouth, though hidden, had vague stretch marks where it separated. I thought I could make out a sort of thoughtful expression, though it could have been my brain being delusional. I could only sigh and hug my aching rib cage.

"Then…let him have it. As long as I don't have to remember you as that monster…"

I gave him the best smile I could muster, which was feeble at best.

"I would rather…it be my Slendy, than the other side of you."

He knelt down and brought his face close to mine, looking at me.

"You will…but not yet. I can still buy you some time."

I flinched as static shot through my vision, closing my eyes and holding my pounding head.

"S-Sorry, the static," I mumbled. "I-It hurts."

Slendy leaned closer and bumped his forehead against mine, and the gesture was something I wasn't expecting. Neither was the long-armed hug that was wrapped around my shoulders to avoid squeezing my ribs. I rested my head solemnly against his shoulder, closing my eyes and breathing a shuddering sigh. He just…held me for a moment, and despite the circumstances, it did make me feel better. For the first time since I had been dragged here, I felt something other than fear, pain, anger or depression. I felt comforted, even if it was coming from the one that would end me.

When he started to pull away, I found myself reaching for him, not wanting him to leave. I took hold of the front of his suit, desperation fueling my actions. I let him go once I realized what I was doing, and instead worked on trying to pull my legs up onto the couch. They were still weak and shaky. A tentacle reached over and tucked beneath my calves, offering assistance as I swung them up onto the cushions. I sighed, stretching out and laying down.

"What should I do?"

"Sleep."

I looked at him, his face upside-down over mine as he bent over the arm of the couch, his body rigid as a board. I reached up and idly ran my hand over his face, my thumb tracing the contours that were present, my mind in a state of mania and making everything feel surreal. I probably shouldn't have done it, and were I in a proper state of mind, I probably wouldn't have. Probably. He was patient, however, and allowed me to explore the emptiness of his face. I smirked and gave a soft chuckle as I let him go, letting my hand come to rest at my side. He straightened up, but remained beside me for a while.

"I will watch, until he returns."

I sighed, though not in exasperation. It was a sigh of relief, and I could say that I was comforted by his presence. Any sane person wouldn't dare sleep in a room with him standing there. They would run in terror, scream, beg and plead with him not to kill them. Not I. I wasn't so afraid of Slendy, but it was the real monster that terrified me; the one that must have been activated by the Creator to torment me when I was minding my own business. That was the Slenderman, the real one. Not my sweet Slendy. Not the one who was standing by me as I tried to sleep, as if he had to protect me from something. Perhaps he really did just want company. I was finding it harder and harder not to become attached to him. He was careful with me, when he was around. He at least acted like he cared.

At some point, I did fall asleep. When I awoke, he was gone. I adjusted myself to be more comfortable. I was having trouble, and reached into my pocket to pull out my lighter and the jade stone. I set the lighter aside, but lingered on the stone. I looked at it in the faded light of early morning. It glimmered oddly, and felt…real. It felt like it didn't belong in this alternate world, and I knew it had to be because it came from mine. I was holding it when I was whisked away with Casey and the others. My lighter felt oddly real in the same way, though not quite as much as that pretty little tumbled stone. I thought to myself, _this stone feels like it might still be connected to the real world, yet disconnected_. That was when I first felt the strange, magnetic pull.

I looked the stone over, and felt a weird pressure against my hand as I held it. It felt like it was pushing against my hand, the same way a magnet pushes against a magnet of the same charge. I found myself having trouble holding it without feeling weird. I sat up, getting carefully to my feet and looking down at the jade. It was pulling me toward the window. I opened it, and looked out in the direction it was pressuring me to go. I could see the market down the road, and the gears in my head began to turn. I ignored the howling of the wind, slamming the window shut and limping my way out to the street. I stood in the heavy rain and relentless wind for a moment. I could see the figure of Slendy standing at the end of the road, looking on. I headed in his direction, toward the marketplace.

The stone continued to pull me along until I was standing at the same stall I had been at when this all began. I set the stone down on the table, but it remained restless. I could feel something strange happening. I saw the ghostly figures of passing people, just as I had when I was phasing into this world. They didn't see or hear me, just going about their business. Frantically, I moved the stone around, trying to figure out where it wanted to be. It just remained restless, no matter where I put it. I started sobbing from how desperate I felt. I was so close to home! I could feel it! The stone was the key, but I couldn't find the lock to which it went. I was frustrated, and ended up dropping to my knees dejectedly when I realized that I was getting nowhere. I had the answer, but I needed to figure out how to use it. I looked down the road, where Slendy was still standing and watching in the rain. His image was starting to distort, and I decided that I should go back inside before I got myself into trouble again. If the Creator was watching, and knew that I had found a means of getting back home without him, no doubt he would find a reason to kill me as soon as possible.

I hurried back inside and locked the door to the staff room, dropping heavily back onto the couch and staring at the jade stone in my hand. My mind was racing, and my ribs were hurting from my excited pants. I had it in my hand; the key to getting out. What was the secret to using it? Did I have to put it exactly where it was in the real world? Did the owner of the shop no long have it set out? I would have to try again the next day and look for the stone's duplicate in this world. Maybe then, I could actually go home. My desire for life had come back tenfold, filling me with that same fire as I had before. I was still broken from the things I had seen and experienced, but I committed to writing everything down in a journal to help me get through it if I managed to survive this ordeal. I started running through scenarios in my head. It was possible that the Creator was increasing his hold on Slendy as I laid there, thinking and planning. I had followed the rules of his game, but now that he was about to lose for once, he was going to play dirty. I had to be wary around Slendy from now on, for my sake.

I rested for a few more hours, remaining in a state of semi-awareness. I would let my body rest, but my mind was vigilant enough to notice sounds or changes in my environment. When I was next paid a visit by my friend, he may not be my friend any more, and I would have to go back to surviving the way I had before. I would have to evade the hunter and find my way home alone.

With a little extra rest, I started getting up and wandering around. I started looking for a first aid kid, but had no luck in the immediate vicinity. I had to push myself up the stairs a couple of floors before finding one in an office space. I used the bandages within to wrap up my ribs, wincing as I did so. I had to tear off the bottom of my shirt to extend them to where I could adequately wrap them to be snug and supportive. I felt a bit better having something to keep the broken ribs from jostling around too much, and it made going down the stairs a little easier. I hated having to tear my shirt, but it was a necessary evil. I needed the extra length.

I returned to my room, finding Slendy standing in the corner. I looked at him warily, unsure if it was him, or the Slenderman part of him being a stalker. Thankfully, it appeared to be Slendy, as he approached me and extended a hand. I looked at it, confused for a moment. I took it, and he bent double to come down and press the back of my hand against the invisible seam of his mouth.

"Oh my, such a gentleman," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. I gave him a grin, nonetheless. He seemed to find some sort of entertainment in my sass.

"Good evening," he said, the audio illusion feeling like it was being fed directly into my head.

"Same to you."

"I have something to show you," he said, keeping his hold on my hand.

"Does it involve getting out of this place?" I asked.

"No…but I believe it may lift your spirits."

I shrugged and followed, intrigued that he was showing so much interest in my mental stability. He led me outside, looked around for a moment, and then brought me into what looked like a bar. Everything was surprisingly clean inside, however. The wooden floor looked swept, and the chairs were all set up on top of the tables. Slendy let go of my hand, ducking below the entryway to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe. I stood in the entrance, looking around. The place had a few working overhead lights, decorated with stained glass lampshades and filling the room with a warm glow. I crossed my arms and smirked at him as he stood in the middle of the room, his hand extended toward me.

"If you think you're going to – AGH!"

One of his tentacles slipped up behind me and pushed me toward him across the floor. Another tentacle reached over to an old boombox and pushed a button on it, making whatever CD inside start playing. It skipped a few times before finally getting started, but when it did, Irish folk songs started drifting on the still air. I saw his mouth stretch into a visible grin, and as creepy as it was, it was almost cute how the corners of his mouth curled so sharply up and around. His mouth disappeared once more as he took my right hand and placed his left at my waist. Despite his usual stiffness, he led me around the dance floor rather fluidly. I didn't think someone so tall could be as mildly graceful as he was. I had no idea what we were doing, but he was a good leader and I followed along easily, with the aid of some cues from his tentacles. By the end of the CD, I found myself giggling and conversing with him as if he were a normal person.

At the end of the final song, he held my hand gave a deep bow. I patted the top of his head playfully, feeling quite a bit better about my situation. I had a means of getting home, so I just had to survive while the Creator was watching. Until then, I had the company of a killing machine, although he was kind of sweet when he wasn't ripping the entrails from someone's gut. I found myself feeling thankful that I hadn't watched him kill someone. I had seen the aftermath, and that was plenty for me.

"Thanks," I said, smiling at him. "You were right…that made me feel better."

He was silent, and I didn't expect him to answer. He knew that it would, and I was just confirming it. I chuckled and turned to the doorway.

"Where are you going?" he asked, and I turned back to him with mild confusion.

"Aren't we done?"

"Did I say we were?"

"You didn't say we weren't," I teased. "What? You got something else?"

He looked around and shrugged. His tentacles emerged from his back with various bottles of liquor.

"Maybe."

I couldn't help but laugh at how smug that sounded. I walked back over to him.

"Do you even drink?"

"Yes…though not often do I drink things that are meant to be drunk."

My mouth hung open for a moment, but I didn't give that much time to sink in. Better not to think about that.

"Okay…Well, let's see what you've got, then."

His tentacles spread the bottles out on the counter, and I looked them over. Most of them were Irish whiskeys or brandy. I wasn't a fan of either, but I would drink with him, because why the hell not? I pulled out some grimy shot glasses, then decided that I would just drink from the bottle. I popped the top off a bottle of whiskey and took a swig, sitting myself down on the bar and watching as Slendy poured the contents of a bottle of brandy down his gaping maw. I winced as I watched him inspect the bottle, his mouth melding shut once more.

"Does that hurt?" I asked.

"Hmm? What?" he asked, turning his head toward me.

"Your mouth…every time you open it, it looks like you're ripping your skin apart."

He shook his head and set the bottle down on the counter. I took another swig of the whiskey, taking note of how it took the edge off the pain in my chest.

"You know, Slendy," I said, looking at the bottle in my hand. "I might actually…miss you, if I survive this."

Slendy's tentacles seemed to squirm around each other for a moment, and he stopped looking at me.

"You shouldn't miss a monster."

"I don't think you're a monster…you just have one inside you, and one that controls you."

I stood up and headed for the door, looking back at him.

"I kind of enjoy your company, when you're my Slendy."

I smirked and turned away from him, heading back to my hideout. It was dark, and it seemed pretty frequent that the darkness meant the Creator wasn't looking. I took the stone in my pocket and held it in my hand, but I didn't feel the pull at the market anymore. The owner must not have been present. Tomorrow for sure, I thought. I was going to get out of there. Well, it would seem that it wasn't the case.

When Slendy was away the next day, I ran out to the market and tried to find the stone on the table. It wasn't there. I set the stone down on the table, and I didn't even see the ghostly images of people anymore.

"Oh…oh no, no no no NO!"

I frantically tried to find any pull from the stone, but I found nothing. I moved it all around the table, knocking the existing stones all over the ground. I looked up briefly and saw Slendy, standing on the other side of the stall. He pressed a finger to his nonexistent lips, shushing me. The Rule of the day must have been no noise again. I clenched my fists and sunk to the ground, crouching in front of the table and shaking angrily. I shook my head, biting my tongue to keep quiet. I lost it, raising my fist and slamming it down into the table with such force that the table cracked and my knuckles split. Slendy teleported a few feet away, looking on silently. I wanted so badly to scream out in anger; raising my fist and slamming it back down on the table, effectively breaking a chunk out of it. My bleeding knuckles smeared blood over the broken wood, bits of dust and splinters sticking to the raw flesh. The pain didn't even faze me. I was seeing red, and the inability to yell or scream or cry or speak made it worse. Slendy teleported closer to me, and I turned my anger against him.

He didn't even try to move. His tentacles remained behind him, making no attempt to block my flying fists. My rage had bubbled over, and the only thing I could think to do was keep making my fist connect with that motionless body. Slendy just looked down at me, my fists colliding with his chest and stomach. It felt like hitting a brick wall, but I didn't care. I kept going until my anger started to subside, and my energy was spent. I panted and grimaced as I dropped to my knees, the movement jarring my broken ribs. I fell onto my back in the wet street, which also hurt. I just stared up at the sky, feeling that awful emptiness tearing away the lust for life I had felt. I didn't say anything, nor did I cry or scream. I stared up at the sky, lost for hope. The stone wasn't reacting anymore, and that taste of freedom had only been a tease. I was starved, and for a brief moment, a juicy steak had been waved in my face. Then, it was gone. All of it. I laid there in the street, starving and desperate for a taste of home again. I just wanted so badly to escape, and my time was getting short.

I laid there until darkness fell, and Slendy came to check on me. He bent over me and cocked his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Laying in the middle of the road, contemplating my impending doom."

"Must you?"

"I've nothing better to do."

Slendy straightened up, his tentacles squeezing underneath me and lifting me up onto my feet. He pulled out a bottle of shampoo and a plastic-wrapped bar of soap. I sighed and took them both.

"Yeah, because it really makes a difference if I smell good when I die. You don't even have a nose," I spat, looking at the tiny bottle of shampoo.

He didn't say anything, just teleported away. I grumbled to myself in frustration, pulling my shirt off and tearing open the package of soap. I rubbed my arms and belly down, cleaning away some of the filth and stink from my body, leaving me smelling a little better and feeling less grimy. I dumped the bottle of shampoo into my hair and scrubbed vigorously, combing my fingers through the knotted and matted mess. I resolved to just cut it off with my hunting knife when I got back inside. I wouldn't be impressing anyone with it, anymore.

I stood out in the rain until I had rinsed the majority of the soap from my body, then threw my shirt back on. I started feeling chilled, and headed back inside. I was greeted by a fire going in the lobby fireplace, and my couch had been moved beside it, blankets and all. I looked around, but didn't see Slendy anywhere. I felt so drained of everything. Once again, everything felt detached and surreal. I laid down on the couch and wrapped myself in the blanket, which was nice and warm from the fire. I stared at the flickering tongues that danced in the hearth, casting their deceptively warm glow over my face. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, fighting my own inner battle. I didn't want to see what the next day would hold for me. It would be the same dull, rainy, stress-inducing day as the past few had been. Maybe the Creator would take pity on me and let Slendy end it all for me. I was back in that place of hopelessness, the fire finally quelled within me.

Slendy appeared at the end of the couch, sitting where my feet couldn't reach. His gangly legs were pushed up close to his chest, and his hands were clasped in front of him as he stared straight ahead. I opened my eyes when I felt the air grow cool, despite the warmth from the fire.

"If I could open the rift, I would," he said after a while of silence.

"You can bring people in, but you can't send them back?" I asked.

"No. Only the Creator can send people back."

I sighed, bringing a hand up to rub my tired eyes. I had dark, hollow circles under them from lack of proper sleep and constant stress. I could feel them; the sore and puffy bags that were probably not the most flattering. I couldn't have cared less about them, if they didn't hurt like everything else on my body. I felt a cool touch brush against my ribs, then my arms and face. I didn't fight the tentacles that moved and shifted me, not having the energy to do much anything anymore. I found my head resting on my pillow, situated in his lap. His tentacles hung over the back of the couch idly, rather than retracting back beneath his suit. A hand came to rest on my forehead, a single finger giving a gentle stroke over my skin. I sighed and looked at the clock, only to realize that it was not yet past midnight. I covered my mouth, realizing my mistake too late. I looked up at Slendy, who continued to stare forward.

"You are fine. The Creator hasn't been watching for a while. As long as I don't look at you, the monster won't come to force me to do what I normally must."

I nodded, and decided to keep my mouth shut until it was safe. I just closed my eyes, focusing on the feeling of his hand resting on my forehead. I felt the cold presence of one of those dark tendrils creeping over my neck. I winced, and the movement must have brought Splendy back from whatever daydream he must have drifted into. Well, if he could daydream. I wasn't sure if he had that ability. The tendril snapped back, along with the rest of them, to his back. His own focus must have drifted long enough to let the appendages wander, and no doubt that one had malicious intent. He gave my head a soft pat, as if reassuring me that everything was fine. Of course, I knew that it wasn't, but having someone try to tell me that was enough for my mangled psyche to grab onto as it drowned in sorrow.

I watched the clock, waiting until the tension died down before speaking.

"I'm sorry…for hitting you earlier."

He tilted his head down to face me, giving my head a light stroke.

"I felt nothing."

"You felt like a brick wall," I joked. "But in all seriousness, I think I should probably wrap these," I said, lifting my right hand. Exposing it to the air after being under the blanket for a while was a jarring sensation. The raw and bleeding flesh was crusted over with dried remnants of what oozed from the wound. Bits of wood were still implanted in my flesh, dusting my exposed muscle with discomfort.

"On second thought, I should probably wash them first…"

I made to get up, but Slendy stilled my movements.

"Allow me."

His tendrils extended from his back once more, stretching until they turned invisible. I watched with mild interest as they gradually faded back to black the closer they came to returning. One set was carrying a small bucket of water, a washcloth, and a roll of gauze. Other tentacles returned with antiseptic and pins to hold the bandages together. He took my worst hand – the right one – and began to gently clean it. A small bottle of alcohol returned with one of the tentacles, and after cleaning away the bits of wood from my knuckles, he dabbed on the searing liquid. I hissed through my teeth, and he paused for a moment before continuing his work.

"How much longer…?"

He looked at me as he wrapped my hand while starting on the other.

"Soon."

I breathed a heavy sigh. It wasn't easy, accepting one's own death. I feared the darkness of the unknown. I just hoped I wouldn't be trapped in this hell in the afterlife, if there was one. Slendy finished cleaning and dressing my wounds, letting me put my hands back under the blanket and over my stomach. It gave a loud rumble, but I couldn't think about food. I looked over at Slendy, who seemed to be staring intently at the fire, as if it held secrets that would tell him how to fix this.

"Slendy? Are you okay?"

He distorted for a moment, then looked down at me. His hand ran over my forehead slowly, thoughtfully.

"I am…okay."

I nodded in understanding. He was concerned, I think, about me. Could a creature like him really know concern for another? I like to believe so. He was gentle and kind, and I thought that he was trying to find a way to get me home. That was enough for me, even if it was in vain.

I blinked and saw static for a brief instant, and the next second, he was distorting again.

"Slendy?"

His mouth began to split, opening slowly. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he stared at the fire.

"Run."

It didn't register at first, but when his tendrils started amassing behind him in a writhing knot, I got the hint and bolted. The last I saw of him, he was grasping at his head and surrounding himself with darkness.

I ran out into the street, but I didn't know where to go. I was still weak, and the only thing keeping me going at this point was the adrenaline running through my veins. I panted, looking around frantically. I heard a low electrical hum, and looking over at the office building, I saw the emergency lights flickering. Suddenly, they started to burst and spew sparks within the offices. Nothing seemed to be catching fire, but the sound was like gunshots going off. I saw a black tendril lash out at one of the lights, then disappear from sight. I ran toward the market, hiding myself under one of the stalls.

Watching through the legs of the table, I kept an eye on the building. Slendy walked out into the street, still pressing his long fingers to his head, desperation lacing his actions. His tentacles writhed and knotted up against his back, seeming to be fighting with each other. I couldn't look away, even as static filled my vision. Then, suddenly, all of the activity stopped. Slendy straightened up, standing a little off-kilter. His tentacles dropped down behind him and dragged along the ground behind him as he took a few swaying steps in my direction. He tried for one more step, but as soon as it made contact with the ground, the rest of him followed. I scrambled out from under the table and crawled over to him, unsure of what just happened. I shook his shoulder, but he didn't respond.

"S…Slendy? Come on, Slendy, get up…"

No response. I looked up when a ghostly figure appeared in front of me. It was a man in a business suit, looking at his watch. He looked up, not seeing me, and walked across the street. I stood up, looking around in confusion as the world began to shift around me.

"Congratulations. You win."

"No…No, it shouldn't be like this!" I yelled at the disembodied voice. I received no other words from whoever had spoken. I felt the ground sway beneath me, and I suddenly found myself standing on a street corner, dimly lit by a lamp. A car drove by, splashing me with water. I stood in shock, staring at the dark and relatively-empty street. I could smell the exhaust of the passing car, the tang of salt on the breeze…no scent of death or blood met my nose. I had grown so used to it, that everything felt foreign now. I was home.

I found tears to be, once again, pouring down my cheeks. They were not relief, nor were they of joy. I felt an immense sadness, realizing that my gentle Slendy had his life taken away by his creator. What cruel creature would the Creator build from the remains? Would there be another, more accurate Slenderman in that realm? Would he rebuild sweet Slendy into the monster he was supposed to be? I would never know. The next month or so was a blur. People asked questions that I couldn't answer, and I went into a state of speechlessness. I couldn't find my voice for the longest time. I cut my hair, had my wounds seen to, and spent a long while alone in my bedroom at mother's house before finally moving back into my apartment and picking back up on my job.

Then I noticed the multitude of "missing" posters, many of which dated the same. I found myself being drawn back to the market from time to time, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the kidnapper. I never did, though. Yes, I watched people vanish into thin air, and I silently found myself wishing to join them. I was supposed to die back there, not Slendy. There never was, and there never would be another dancing, caring, or sweet Slendy.


End file.
